#vergilxreader

Pairing: Vergil Sparda/reader, Vergil Sparda/you

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: light/nsfw mention near the end. mdni!

Summary: You had a close relationship with V before he reconnected with Vergil. Not quite a lover, but you were close with V, and you miss him. Vergil misses you too. However, you two rarely speak to each other. That changes when you fall sick and Vergil decides to help.

A/n: First time posting anything I've written, please be kind! Hope this isn't too ooc as I'm still getting the hang of him. Also I wrote this while super sleep deprived lmao but if I don't post it now I never will. Not really proofread.

ִ ࣪𖤐

This is not the first time he has entered your room as you sleep. Despite his quiet and even cold demeanor toward you during the day, he cannot help but take this brief night time visit. He doesn't do this often. Only when he fails to ignore the persistent, foolish worry that you're gone in someway or another. He does it to reassure himself that you are here. Real. Breathing. Safe.

His pale blue gaze trails over your sleeping form. He takes in the sight of you, the hair that covers part of your face as you rest, your lips parted. He watches as your chest rises and falls with deep, even breaths. His fingers itch to brush the hair from your face but he resists.

In the two months since his return to the human world you have been a beacon of familiarity and even comfort, although you two hardly speak. You two barely acknowledge each other on most days and when you do, he feels a twinge in his chest.

When he was split, you and V grew to be rather close. He often replays those memories, the way you pressed yourself flush to V's back, molding your smaller frame against his. He can feel it too, distantly within his mind. Recalls the way you pulled him back against you as you leaned against the armrest of the couch, resting your chin on his shoulder, hands pressed flat over his stomach.

Cute, how you seemed to try and surround him, envelope him with your body, your hands pressed to his stomach, knees bent on either side of him.

He recalls the way your breath fanned over his ear as you rested your chin on his shoulder, listening intently as he read to you. So small and delicate. Fragile. Yet you somehow, oddly enough, managed to make him feel secure. Safe. Wanted.

V is him and he is V. Although he knows you are aware of this, Vergil cannot help but wonder if you care. If you miss him. Vergil takes one last glance at your sleeping form before silently exiting your room.

ִ ࣪𖤐

You wake to a scratchy throat and a faint ache within your skull. The infancy of sickness. Dread, annoyance, bitter realization as you climb out of bed, bare feet on the cold floorboards.

You take a shower and get dressed before heading downstairs, mentally trying to prepare yourself for a long, boring day at the desk answering calls in Dante's absence. Most of which will probably be intended for another business. You'd made a bet with Dante and lost. A rarity. This is the price you pay.

You don't bother getting anything to eat as every swallow is irritating, opting instead for tea that ends up going cool and you don't finish it. It sits on the desk near the phone, half-full. The calls are few and far between as you sit, chin in hand, head aching. You have half a mind to crawl back into bed.

You fall asleep, cheek resting against the back of your hand on the desk as if you were in school again. You wake to the sound of the front door opening, sitting up groggily, stretching your arms above your head.

Your head turns, expecting the joking, laid-back twin but your greeting dies in your throat as your gaze lands on Vergil. Posture perfect, straight. Unlike V's. His eyes, pale blue and calculating, land on you for a moment. The eye contact is brief, his expression indifferent as he enters the office area. You tear your gaze away, resting your elbow on the surface of the desk, slouching as you place your chin in your palm.

"Where is Dante?" Vergil asks, voice low and even. You stiffen a fraction having not expected the question. You glance at him and lean back in the desk chair, shrugging with a sigh.

"Don't know really. Out." You answer, the ache and scratch in your throat comes through, your voice husky. You swallow and irritation follows the movements of your throat.

"Why?" You ask, a slight tilt to your head as you drum your fingers along the cool wooden surface of the desk, pinky finger dragging over a chip in the surface as you avoid his stare.

"I called twice." Your face grows warm.

"Shit." You say, shoulders slumping slightly. "Sorry I—"

"Fell asleep?" Vergil interrupts, a faint lilt in his tone. You question if you heard it correctly. "It's no matter. I took care of it." He finishes as your eyes flicker to him sheepishly, pad of your pinky finger rubbing over that chip repeatedly as Vergil crosses the floor and ascends the stairs, looking regal as ever. Not a wrinkle in his attire nor a hair out of place after his job.

Your ears strain to pick up on the soft click of his bedroom door. When you hear it you sag in the chair with a sigh. How did you not hear the call? That shrill tone? You run a hand over your face, silently hoping you didn't miss any other calls. Your eyes go to the clock. Close enough.

You stand from the chair, stretching, groaning at the ache in your back and head. You make your way upstairs, doing your best to avoid the known creaky spots. Your room is located on the right and down the hall from Vergil's. You shut the door behind you with the heel of your shoe. A shiver runs up your spine, goosebumps blooming along your arms as you change into sleepwear, leaving your previous outfit to pool on the floor by your dresser. The sheets are cool as you climb into bed and curl up on your side, head feeling heavy as it hits the pillow. Sleep falls over you almost immediately.

A welcome relief.

ִ ࣪𖤐

Vergil remembers, yes. He can recall the way your body felt pressed at his back yet the feel isn't exact, always a little distant. Foggy. The sensation more like an echo. Vergil won't say it out loud but he misses it. The way you would slot your fingers together and press a kiss to his knuckles. Sweet, gentle, lavishing him with pure unabashed affection. Warm and intoxicating.

"Here." He says, voice low in the quiet of your room as he hands you pills and a water bottle. This is him returning a bit of care, regardless of how mechanical or awkward it may seem.

You cannot find it in yourself to ask any questions. You pop them into your mouth, swallowing them down, wincing at the lingering taste of the pills. The water bottle is in your other hand as you sit in bed, blanket pooled around your waist. Residue is in your throat burning faintly as the pills nearly got stuck as you swallowed them dry. He pushes the bottom of the plastic bottle to your lips, a silent command that you obey before falling back onto the pillow, head throbbing. A small sound of discomfort emits from your throat as you close your eyes. Again, you can't find it within you to care.

Pitiful, he thinks, though there is the ghost of a smile on his lips.

There are no footsteps to signal his departure. Just the sound of the door opening and closing behind him. A pang of hurt in your heart follows his absence which you attempt to tamp down. Sleep pulls you under shortly after.

Vergil returns sometime later in the night, the door clicking closed behind him. You stir at the soft click and the feel of another presence in your room although you are much too tired and sick to open your eyes. Vergil walks over, brushes strands of hair from your damp forehead before placing his hand flat against it, palm warm as he holds it there for a few seconds. He traces a finger down your temple, curving around your jaw. You lean into his touch just a fraction and he nearly pulls away. Nearly. He cups your cheek, thumb brushing along the area just below your eye.

"Go back to sleep." He murmurs.

You do.

ִ ࣪𖤐

The next day passes in a fog. Your day is spent sleeping or watching the sun set and color your room before it grows dark. Your head is still heavy, though it aches less. Your body is weak, feeling all too light and weighed down simultaneously as you push the blanket off and get out of bed.

A small wave of dizziness washes over you but passes quickly. Tired, so tired despite all your rest. Your feet move on their own, head almost empty as you cross the bedroom floor. Goosebumps bloom along your skin as your fingers wrap around the door handle and pull it open, wincing a little at the slight creak it gives. You step out and don't even bother closing your door.

Your bare feet patter quietly across old floorboards, a slight throbbing behind your eyes. You nearly stagger over the narrow carpet that runs down the middle of the hall, the corner of it folded. You groan softly before continuing toward the end of the hall, finding yourself standing outside Vergil's room. You don't quite know why...

A moment of hesitation on your part. Your hand is raised just a couple inches from the thick wood, ready to knock. You swallow and give a soft, borderline tap. Hardly audible and yet...

"Come in."

Relief floods you as you aren't turned away. You open the door and step into Vergil's room. It's your first time being in his space. His bed is neatly made. There's a small bookshelf near his desk. The light from his bedside table is soft and golden. You close the door behind you.

Vergil is seated in an armchair near the bedroom window, his ankle resting over his knee as he reads. The curtains are drawn almost all the way, leaving just a slight gap. Rain trails and splatters on the glass. You approach him, limbs feeling heavy, your head light and your heart aching. He glances up from the top of his book, pale blue eyes meeting yours.

"May I?" You ask quietly, voice husky and throat sore.

Vergil eyes you for a moment. He sets his foot down, making his lap available. His arms on the armrests, book in one of his hands. “You may.”

You step forward and climb into his lap somewhat clumsily. Your knees on the cushion on either side of his thighs. Immediately you lean your cheek on his shoulder, your arms snaking around his middle. Vergil tenses briefly before relaxing. Hesitantly, he brings a hand to your back, rubbing slowly and soothingly up and down your spine. You practically melt at the feel, eyes closing. Vergil is warm, a different feel than V, wider and sturdier, but they smell the same.

Safe and comforting.

This close, Vergil can smell the heat of your fading fever, the way it seems to amplify your normal scent, sweet and heady. His hand instinctively presses firmly against your back, as if trying to bring you impossibly closer and he fights the urge to shift, to bury his nose in your hair.

You are a warm, addictive, comforting weight and Vergil is all too touch-starved. Heat pools in his lower stomach and he clenches his jaw, brings himself under control with a few measured breaths. Vergil counts the times his hand drags up and down your back until the arousal fades.

This allows for the possibility of a Mama Mia-type plot, where there are multiple people who could possibly be Nero's other parent, and nothing short of a DNA test could prove which one really is.

This even kind of plays into that one reading that suggests that the reason the Lady In Red is anonymous is so self-insert enjoyers could treat the character's role as free real estate. Not only could Vergil have fucked any of you, he could have fucked all of you!

 Vergil x reader

- You and Vergil love to read books.

-You two have a thing for books. 

-Vergil would give you recommendations and you do the same. 

-The two of you would talk about the books you two are currently in. 

-Vergil may not like socializing at times but he LOVES talking to you, especially about books. 

-Vergil asked you out on a bookshop date so apparently he’s looking for new books to read. 

-You agreed to go on a date with him to the bookstore to pick a new book. You also wanted to get new books since you have nothing else to read. 

-While you were choosing on the thriller/drama section, you spotted Vergil picking out the classics such as The Great Expectations, A Tale Of Two Cities, both by Charles Dickens. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. 

-You gotta admit, he has GREAT TASTE in books. 

-Once you both chose your books, you two decided to pay together. 

-You and Vergil held hands and exited the bookshop.

Just something short and sweet. Haven’t written a drabble in awhile so here ya go!

It was midnight when Vergil returned home, exhausted and filthy. At 12:05, he found it in his heart to give you a lengthy kiss to the forehead before trudging off to the shower. You were certain he went to bed around 12:20, as that’s when the shower turned off and he had yet to come back down. You planned to join him as soon as your show was over, as you were certain he would want some time to himself before you wandered up there and disturbed his sleep.

At 12:30, a blue demon appeared in your living room.

You looked up in surprise as the ghostly demon stared down at you. It was Vergil’s SDT, but only a light blue instead of the numerous scales with various, dark blue hues. Yet it moved just like he always did. Its’ tail swayed from side to side. Its horns were still on fire. Its teeth were just as sharp. It was almost a perfect replica and you had no idea what it was doing there.

Then, it bowed slightly and held its hand out to you.  You stared at it for a long time, uncertain what exactly it was asking. And when you did take its hand, the creature pulled you to your feet. “Where’s Vergil?” You asked. The creature’s head tilted, and you tried a different question. “Is he sleeping?”

The creature gave a bemused snort as it nodded. You were shocked at how real it was. You honestly expected your arms to go right through the thing. But as it pulled you closer, one hand at your waist and the other gently holding your hand, you realized that it was as real as you. Its tail snaked up a nearby table, tapping on the play button of your radio. A slow song started, and the creature began to sway. Mesmerized, you joined it - him? - rocking back and forth to the beat of the song. You swore you heard it humming, but it was so quiet that you couldn’t be certain. At one point, as the song reached its chorus, the creature spun you only to pull you back close and sway some more. And he was surprisingly cool considering Vergil was usually hotter than the damn sun like this. Even the flames on his horns didn’t seem to produce any heat.

But there were much more pressing questions at hand. Such as the most obvious one - was this Vergil dancing with you or someone else entirely?

Sigh from the hallway answered that question as Vergil, dressed in the pajamas you’d bought for him a few weeks prior, walked up to the both of you. “Why must you bother me so?” He said, looking up at the creature. It shrugged, not letting go of you. You looked between them, both confused and slightly amused at the staring contest between the two.

“Is he you?” You said.

“In a way,” Vergil said. “But he does… nonsensical things.”

You snorted. “But don’t you control it?”

Finally, Vergil’s gaze turned toward you. The creature vanished, but Vergil was there to take its place. You gave him the cheesiest smile you could imagine. “If you wanted to dance you could’ve just asked.”

He glared at you, but it was soft as a new song started in the background. “It’s too late for that,” He said in a dismissive tone. Yet he swayed all the same, gently pulling you back and forth along with him.

You squeezed his hand. “It’s never too late for something like this.”

The appearance of Prince Dante had become a regular occurrence at my family’s bakery for a few weeks and I was more than willing to prepare some extra pastries for him and his family every morning. I hummed softly to myself as I watched the sun begin to rise into the morning sky once Dante left to go back to the castle for the remainder of the day. I continued on with my daily tasks and listened for the chime of the bell that hung above the door to the bakery. Hours began to pass before I heard the gentle ringing of the chime as the door was pushed open and the sound of boots clicked against the wood flooring.

I quickly wiped my hands off on the damp cloth I kept by the table that I worked on and rounded around the table to walk out into the front of the shop. I put on my best smile as I stepped out into the front and looked towards the front door.

“Good morning! Welcome to (L/N)’s Bakery!” I said, only to stop in my tracks and stare at the person who was currently standing in front of me.

His posture was prim and proper, his clothing tailored to him perfectly, the fabric a few different shades of blue, and the gloves on his hands fit snugly against his fingers. Looking up towards his face I examine his features with a gentle gaze. His jaw was set, his nose slightly rounded at the tip but suited his face well, his brow was slightly creased as he took in his surroundings with his icy blue eyes that held a look of intensity in them. He reached up with his gloved hand and pushed back the falling pieces of white hair from his face and turned his gaze to me.

I gave him a smile and took hold of the sides of my skirt, curtseying to him as I bowed my head out of respect. “Prince Vergil! To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit to our humble bakery?” I asked as I raised my head to look up at him.

“Ah, good morning.” He said, his voice a little higher than Dante’s. “You must be the baker girl my brother tends to go on about.” He said as he adjusted the cuffs of his jacket a little.

I blinked a few times, my cheeks heating up slightly at the knowledge that I had made enough of an impression on the young Prince for him to speak of me to his family. “I suppose I am Your Highness,” I said as I moved some of my hair behind my ear.

Prince Vergil nodded his head as he looked around the bakery once again. “Your bakery is quite quaint.” He said as he took in the minimal decor that we had around the building.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” I said as I looked around the shop as well. “May I ask what brings you to our humble bakery this morning Your Highness?” I asked as I turned to look at him.

Vergil hummed and nodded his head as he turned to face once more. “I came here today to speak about your services and possibly hire you or someone within your bakery to complete something for me.” He stated matter of factly as he began to walk around the bakery, looking at the different displays of bread and pastries that were placed around the shop front.

“And what might that something be, Your Highness?” I asked as I tilted my head to the side out of curiosity.

He ran his finger over the top of one of our wooden tables as he pondered his request for a moment. “My mother’s birthday is coming up, it’s next month on the thirteenth, and I am looking for someone to bake her a cake that is fit for a Queen. And since my brother has spoken so highly of your pastries, and my mother has grown quite fond of your apple pastries, I thought it to be a grand opportunity for you to have something like this offered to you.” He said as he motioned to me with his gloved hand.

My eyes widened and I pointed towards myself. “You want me to make a cake for the Queen, Your Highness?” I asked, wanting to clarify it once more.

Vergil turned to look at me with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, that is what I said.” He said as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Will that be a problem?” He asked, his eyes slightly narrowing at me.

I quickly shook my head and gave him a smile. “I’m honored that you would ask this of me, Your Highness! And I am even more honored that my pastries have made such a wonderful impression that I am even considered to bake the Queen her birthday cake!” I stated as the smile continued to spread on my face.

Vergil looked at me and hummed softly through his nose. “Yes, they did indeed. I am glad to hear that you are willing to take on this task. I will have one of our servants bring you the instructions on what kind of cake to make and how it should be presented.” He said as he turned to walk out of the bakery.

“Thank you, Your Highness!” I said as I watched him walk towards the door. “Ah, Your Highness!” I called out, making him stop just before reaching the door. I walked over to the small basket of cherry pastries and took one out.

“A thank you for allowing me to do something like this for the royal family,” I said as I held it out to him with a gentle smile.

Vergil regarded the pastry in my hand before nodding his head and taking it from my hand. “Thank you.” He said and turned back to the front door and walked out of the doorway and down the street back to the castle, his coattails moving in the wind as he disappeared from my sight.

I blinked a few times, placing my hand over my mouth and giggled loudly as I spun around the front of the bakery. “Mother! Father! I’m going to be making the Queen’s birthday cake!” I called out as I ran to the back of the bakery to tell them more about my encounter with the eldest Prince of our kingdom.

--

Vergil stepped into the courtyard of the castle and quickly made his way back to the study he kept himself hidden inside for most of the day so that he could study more on battle strategies. He wasn’t seated for long before he heard his brother’s voice call out to him.

“And where were you?” Dante asked, a smirk to his tone and Vergil could tell that he was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest and one leg crossed in front of the other at the ankle.

“I made a trip to that bakery you go to every morning,” Vergil stated as he flipped the page of his book.

“And what were you doing there?” Dante asked as he raised an eyebrow at him.

Vergil sighed through his nose and turned to look at his brother. “Well, you spoke so highly about the baking of the girl that works there so I took it upon myself to ask her to make mother’s birthday cake next month.” He stated and watched as Dante’s eyebrows raised out of surprise.

“Huh, I didn’t even think about that,” Dante stated. “Damn, baker girl’s gonna have her hands full with making mom’s cake and everything else she makes in the bakery.” He mumbled as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

“But, I think that she’ll do great. Mom loves her apple pastries so I have no doubt that she’s going to make an amazing cake for her.” He said as he gave Vergil a little smirk. “Good choice Verg.” He said before pushing off the door frame and walking out of the study.

Vergil sighed through his nose once more and turned back to his book. He looked up from the page once more and glanced at the pastry he had covered by a piece of parchment paper. Reaching over he gently pulled the plate that held the cherry pastry and stared at it for a few moments before picking it up and taking a bite of it.

i really tried to imagine Vergil as a singer lmfao;;;  alas!

---

    For a moment, it wasn’t clear if he heard you or not.  Vergil was so intently focused on the book in his hand that he didn’t immediately respond, so when you repeated his name, his gaze shifted with the tiniest motions of his head.  That crease in his brow would have made him look agitated to anyone else, but you could recognize it as his displeasure in worry.

    “What are you doing awake at this hour?”

    And there it was.  You shifted in place, feeling a bit like a kid as you sighed, trying to find a way to relay to him that you couldn’t sleep with him out of bed without sounding as such.  The sound of his book snapping shut startled you more than it should have; being sleepless normally made you jumpy.  “Trouble sleeping,” you admitted, still being vague enough yet not having to make something up on the spot.  Luckily he seems to understand the fact you sought him out indicated you wanted him nearby; standing from his perch on the windowsill as you drew closer, hands reaching out slow to make sure he was prepared for you to wrap your arms around his waist.

    “You think my presence will help?”

    “You could always sing me to sleep.”

    Vergil chuckled once, the sound deep and amused as he let you tug him by the arm until the two of you were side by side in bed.  His own sleep schedule was so skewed that you didn’t even bother fussing that he looked like he was nowhere near looking ready for sleep.  Per usual, he sat with his back to the headboard, dim light on his side illuminating just enough to be able to read the pages of his book without straining his eyes.  And, as usual, he let you cuddle up to his side, head resting against his hip and one arm carefully draped around your shoulders.

    What you didn’t expect was the sudden low sound that continued before you realized Vergil was humming quietly.  The tone was a little hesitant after first as it rose and fell, gradually growing more sure until it blossomed into what was surely one of the most haunting melodies you’d ever heard.  You weren’t sure if it was something he was recalling from his childhood, or if he was actually just improvising, but Vergil’s expression was rather blank as his eyes scanned the pages when you looked up; a rather odd sight considering the beautiful tune he was producing as he did so.

One person asked for this so you know I had to do it to 'em. I'm still having trouble finding a balanced way to write Vergil but I really enjoy writing for this series thing.